184 BIG-GAME SHOOTING IN UPPER BURMA 



with the spot where the herd had been. They 

 had been intently watching him while I was 

 creeping round their flank, and had dashed off a 

 second or two before I was able to fire. This man, 

 Moung Twuni, was an uncommonly good tracker, 

 and I have since bagged many a fine bull through 

 his agency ; but the memory of that lost tsaing 

 haunts me to the present day. Had I got him 

 it would have been interesting to note the size 

 of the horns ; as it was, the thick bamboo cover 

 prevented my getting even a glimpse of his head, 

 or that of the other two bulls. There was but 

 a momentary vision of three huge black bodies 

 mixed up with the chestnut of the cows as the 

 herd thundered off, and in another second the 

 jungle had swallowed them up. I said little — 

 the catastrophe was too great for words — but, 

 like the parrot, I ' thought a dale.' A more 

 crestfallen pair as we plodded back ten weary 

 miles to camp it would be hard to imagine. 



While tracking, when there is reason to sup- 

 pose that the game is close at hand, it pays 

 the sportsman to creep ahead, with the trackers 

 following close behind. As the former has to be 

 careful not to step on a dried twig or dead leaf, 

 it follows that in addition to keeping a bright 

 look-out he must be constantly looking where he 

 puts his feet. While doing so he will often be 

 able to pick out the trail. But if the tracking 

 is difficult, it is of no great consequence. The 



